


The Parade Of Wandering Eyes

by EmeraldInALocket



Category: None - Fandom, Original Short Story - Fandom
Genre: Eyeballs, Gen, Horror, Suspense, Welcome to Night Vale - Freeform, a little bit gore-y, eerie atmosphere, grotesque, heavily inspired by the "Welcome to Night Vale" podcast, i guess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-11 00:17:04
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7014553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EmeraldInALocket/pseuds/EmeraldInALocket
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where people are born without eyes, the eyes choose their people during The Parade Of Wandering Eyes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Parade Of Wandering Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> My first proper story written last year. And now when I finally decided to set up this account, I thought why not publish it here. Special thanks for that to [@bururaven](http://bururaven.tumblr.com). Yes, I finally listened to you n_n

“One could argue that it was the most thrilling event of the year, but nobody could recall which year was it. No announcement was ever issued about the time and place, however everyone gathered in a perfect single line along the path adjacent to The Desolated Forest.”

“That’s where we’re going now, granny!” the little girl exclaimed, gripping tighter the wrinkled hand.

“Exactly, my dear.”

They walked together through the village wrapped in a heavy fog as the rising sun slowly saturated the world with colours again. Everyone else resembled slouching shadows of who they used to be, trudging forward to the destination they would forget as soon as the event passes. The low murmur of their voices being the only noise filling the air.

“Tell me the rest,” the little girl demanded with a broad grin on her soft face. “Tell me what you saw!”

“Ah, those eyes have seen many things,” she replied, melancholy present in her voice. “They’ve seen The Darkness Within A Man and The Light Above Their Heads… they’ve seen the blood on the freshly fallen snow during the full moon and the tears of innocent as the sun set. But most importanly, they were finally able to see you.”

The little girl giggled as the woman lovingly petted her head. The silence fell between them. Slowly, but surely, the people passed the last dilapidated building marking the edge of the village. A vast clearing was to be crossed before The Parade would reveal itself. The tangible tension enveloped everyone as The Forest began to loom on the horizon. Its pitch black trees with bare branches twisting in every possible direction created a stark contrast to their surrounding.

And then a shy trill of a blackbird pierced through the dense fog causing everyone to lift their heads.

“Ah, it is going to begin soon,” the woman sighed. “Let us hurry, little one.”

She turned her head in a direction of the blackbird song, hovewer a gentle tug on her arm prevented her from moving forward.

“Granny,” the little girl began faintly, “what if none of the eyes would choose me?”

The old woman regarded her for a moment. She kneeled in front of the child and took her face into rough palms of her hands. Her thumbs rubbed the thin navy blue veins marring the paper-like skin around two hollow eye sockets. The woman stared intently into their abyss as if the abyss could to return the favour.

“My sweet darling, do not fret. That would just mean you’ll be able to see more than me.”

The little girl finally nodded to which the old woman smiled.

Pleased.

Satisfied.

With some difficulties she managed to stand up again on her feet. She stroked the child’s soft hair and this time, without any resistance, led her to the lone path. Everyone was already there, standing in a perfect single line next to each other. The little girl let go of her grandmother’s hand and took her place in the row.

A brief moment of unsettling silence separated the blackbird’s song and the wet, squelching sound coming from within The Desolated Forest. Everyone held their breaths.

It has begun.

The ambiguous mass rolled sluggishly down the path. Only after it approached the first participant it began to break into smaller parts, revealing the countless amount of eyeballs. Crawling like maggots, they were leaving behind a trail of foul smelling mucus. No one looked bothered by that, although their unseeing faces appeared to be even paler than usual.

All of a sudden a loud wailing was heard. One man… The First Man… dropped heavily on the ground, paralysed, face distorted into a grotesque grimace as a pair of eyes slithered up the length of his body. Soon after a cacophony of screams, howls, and whimpers resounded through their surroundings. Dragging on and on for hours while in reality lasting no longer that a couple of minutes.

Gradually the commotion died down and The Wandering Eyes were gone without a trace. The unconscious Newseers were laying on the grass along the path. However the little girl still stood on her shaky legs among many others like her. It was hard to discern whether the look on their faces was one of utter relief or hopeful desperation. But soon after, even those emotions began to disappear. 

The old woman came up to the girl, putting a hand on her lithe shoulder.

“What is it, granny?” she innocently inquired, leaning into the familiar touch.

“Nothing, my dear. It’s time to come back,” the woman replied softly. “I promised you a slice of cherry pie after our stroll, didn’t I?”

The little girl nodded enthusiastically and followed the woman’s lead, leaving the path and The Desolate Forest behind her.

Forgotten.

Until next time.

(Whenever that will be.)


End file.
